By now, you long-time readers have a pretty good idea about the kind of ass-clownery that seems to pass for the pick-up scene in Paris. If you’re a new reader, you can check out Mssrs. Gym Casanova, Mssrs. Greatest Hits, Mssrs. Driving Casanova, and Mssrs. Metro Casanova for some highlights.
I know that I usually don’t have many positive things to say on this blog, so every once in a while I like to change things up a bit by blogging about the good things that happen to me.
I don’t want you all to think that this city is totally hopeless. I’ve had a number of very pleasant conversations with random young men in the streets of Paris.
Unfortunately, all these young men have been under the age of 8.
Don’t ask me why, but small children seem to take a shining to me here.
And unlike their adult male counterparts, they know how to treat a lady.
Mr. Mini Casanova #1
This young man of about six or seven years tore away from his mother and plopped down next to me on the metro. He was very polite, began with “Excusez-moi, madame“, and then asked me very earnestly whether I’d ever seen Le Petit Dinosaure et la Vallée des merveilles (The Land Before Time).
We proceeded to chat about the movie franchise and about the overall rad-ness of dinosaurs until his mother was able to push through the crowds on the train and reclaim him. But before he left, he took my hand and asked me if I could come over to have dinner and watch a dinosaur movie with him.
Mr. Mini Casanova #2
When I entered the train car, I came face to face with a bawling toddler in a pram. He turned to me, and, strangely enough, he abruptly stopped crying. He blinked his big blue — slightly bloodshot — blinkers at me, and said, “Je m’appelle Jean.”
Then he turned to his father and said, “Papa, elle est belle!”
When he turned back to me, he asked me to be his mom.
He was, at most, three years old, but that was probably the closest that I will ever get to having a parisian melt my heart.
And with such beautiful blue eyes and such an irresistible mop of blond curls that I almost considered taking him up on his offer.
Almost. His poor father was not really on board with this idea. And neither was his mother.
It was pretty awkward.
Mr. Mini Casanova #3
This little guy just ran up to me at the bank, hugged my legs and told me that he loved me.
He was probably around four or five years old.
And you thought that grand gestures of love only happened in Hollywood movies? Apparently not!
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Granted, if adult males had approached me like these little guys did, they would not have been as endearing.
But still, even if they only came up to my knees, the fact that they were so appreciative of my general awesomeness… I’ll chalk that up as a win.
Hey, my man-shopping operation has been less than successful here, so I’ll take what I can get.